


all fall down

by byeolbit



Category: VIXX
Genre: Demons AU, Gen, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 21:33:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17211344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byeolbit/pseuds/byeolbit
Summary: Eons ago, Wonshik had promised the gods that he would make hell rise and stars fall.





	all fall down

The night grew older. The clouds moved, covering the moon and uncovering it in an erratic rhythm. The silver night filtered through the fir trees that lined the boundary of the graveyard, outside the stone wall. The wall stood ten metres high but was dwarfed by the height of the centuries old trees. The branches rustled under the wind and the crickets buzzed.

“It’s not too late. We can still turn back” one man begged another, tugging on the second’s sleeves in an attempt to pull him back.

“You fool!” the second spat, pulling his arm free. “When else would we get a chance like this again?”

“You are a greater fool for not heeding the priest’s warnings!” the first man cried. “The graveyard is cursed. Cursed, I tell you!”

“Bah! Tall tales. The rich made those up to protect their graves. Use your head boy!”

“Even the rich avoid this graveyard. No one stays near it and no one has been buried in it for centuries. I am begging you, please. We will find another way to save your sister. There is nothing to be gained from going in. No one who ever went in, returned alive” the younger of the two insisted.

“Because they stole the money for themselves and didn’t wish to share. I will not be the same” the first said. The conviction in his voice could rival the religious fanaticism of the priest’s followers and the second saw that reasoning was a lost cause.

“I cannot follow you down this path” he said, growing silent. The first was a mad man. Mad!

The temple bells rang in the distance. The first turned south to see the hazy glow of the lights in the village. The sacrifices to the Moon Goddess had begun. Perhaps if they hadn’t come so far out they would have heard the chanting too.

“Return to the festival if you must” the first said. “But don’t come grovelling to me when I am rich and powerful.”

“I shall pray to the Goddess that you return alive” the second said before retreating. The first glared at his back as he walked down the road and finally broke into a run. The second gong sounded, disturbing the quiet that had begun to settle in like light from the windows displacing the dust on the floor.

He was wasting precious time.

One of the trees looked denser than the rest, he noted. The branches grew on the lower bark and if he stretched enough, he could hoist himself onto the lowest branch and then climb up high enough to jump the wall.

His hand went up to the amulet resting around his neck subconsciously. It better work, he thought angrily. He had paid more than what was needed for a flimsy pendant on a thread.

He hoisted himself up onto the branch. It had been easier than thought. The movement disturbed the birds resting on nests in the lower branches. There was raucous crowing and squawking as they flew from the tree, disturbed by the intrusion.

The third gong sounded as the man reached a height enough to see the end of the wall. Spikes, he noted as he saw the glittering metal on top of stone. Was it silver? Bloody rich bastards, he spat, hoisting himself up on the tree to get a look beyond the wall.

It was dark but the wind grew stronger. It was never this stormy on the night of the ritual sacrifices. The priests had warned that omens foretold a great evil would descend on them soon. That was why the townsfolk had agreed to a grand sacrifice. An effort to appease the Goddess and call on her for protection.

What was the point of this protection when innocent people like his sister were dropping dead due to the plague that had gripped the kingdom?

No, she wouldn’t die. Upon his soul, she would live to see many sunrises.

He looked to the dome of the Temple, visible in the distance. It glowed golden, lit up for the sacrifice.

The clouds shifted and moonlight illuminated the ground. The area beyond the wall was still dark but he could make out flowering bushes lining the other side. The bushes would cushion his fall. He unwrapped the rope he had tied around his waist and tied it to one of the spikes. It was shorter than he liked, but it would do if he had the bushes to jump on.

He stood on top of the wall, rope secured and peering into the darkness that waited to swallow him. Perhaps he was mad but desperate times called for desperate measures. The fourth gong sounded. It was now or never.

He jumped, using his legs to push against the wall periodically and rappelled down. The rope tightened and his fall stopped as he was still five metres above the ground. He could risk a jump, the man decided, his ropes cutting painfully into his back from the force of his own weight. He tugged on the rope and the loose knot securing it around the spike loosened. A few more tugs and it gave way entirely, letting him go into free fall.

He grunted as he landed in the bushes. There were scratches from stray thorns but it didn’t feel like he had broken any limbs. A good thing, he supposed for now that he had gotten in, he also needed to get out and reach the village by sunrise. He pulled himself out of the bushes, the fabric of his clothing ripping when he tugged too hard against the bush. He stumbled but stopped himself from falling on the ground, closing his eyes and bracing himself in case of impact anyways.

“May the Goddess have mercy” he gasped, when his eyes opened and he saw nothing. There was a strong haze where there had been bushes earlier and that prevented any light from reaching the ground. The moonlight was also missing, rendering him blind. He stretched his hand out but felt nothing apart from the chill in the breeze.

It wasn’t a point to worry about. The wind would clear the haze eventually. Fogs always cleared within hours of accumulating in the large commons around the city. The graveyard would be the same. The wall meant nothing.

Something cold tickled his hand and he snapped from his reverie. He pulled his dagger out, his free hand on the amulet around his neck. He would be safe. He didn’t have to worry about anything as long as he had this pendant. And he had business to get on with. No time for whims and fancies of hearsay and old wives tales.

He chose a direction and started walking. There was no sound in the graveyard. The hue and cry of the festival had been muffled by the black haze. It amplified the sound of his heartbeat and that was unsettling. He thought he heard something to his left and his footsteps sped up in the other direction. He broke into a cold sweat and realized he had started to run. To where? He did not know.

He tripped and came face to face with cold granite. He cried in pain as the edge had cut into his right thigh. He pushed himself up, crawling on the floor and hauling his body onto the granite surface. Whatever had been in the haze was no longer around, if he went by the eerie silence that had returned.

As he crawled forward and try to lay down, his head touched a large block of stone. More granite? No, it felt much smoother. Green marble. Or was it jade? He laughed in agony, black flecks swimming in his field of vision. Those bloody rich bastards did have valuables hidden up here after all.

He propped himself against the stone and once his leg stopped throbbing, he got up. His vision cleared up and so did the haze, to reveal a large statue. The stone had formed part of the foundation for the statue of a large angel. A beautiful woman whose hand extended down as if calling the onlooker to hold it and the other pointed the opposite way.

The man hesitated, trying to catch a glimpse of the direction she had been pointing in. His eyes tricked him as the reflections in the distance danced the way stars would twinkle on clear nights. Water? Perhaps a pool or a fountain?

Closer inspection revealed that there was a lot of water spread about. It was a shallow pool set in the floor. In the distance there was a set of stones. It looked like a walkway across the pool.

The man looked around. It seemed like the walkway was his best bet to proceed. The statue was too heavy to steal, but an ornately decorated grave would perhaps be easier to chip gems off. If the statue and the dark marble were anything to go by, the grave would be decorated with gemstones too.

This display of opulence was filthy, the man said out loud with disgust as he passed a column of statues set every fifteen paces in the pool. The rich even died comfortably as the poor starved to death on the streets.

The walkway gave way to steps that went up and he walked. How long had he been walking? Had all the seven gongs rung? Why wasn’t this haze clearing up?

The steps stopped and gave way to a flat platform. The man walked on. He felt a shiver as he stepped on it as if someone had just dunked him into a cold pool on a winter morning. The haze cleared up immediately and his eyes lit up.

In front of him lay a structure resembling a closed casket. It was carved purely out of one large dark marble stone and surrounded by stone statues of cherubic angel spirits, each wing engraved with a glittering gemstone of different colour.

The man rushed forward. The gemstones glittered in the moonlight and he didn’t know their names but he knew that the town pawn shop would pay handsomely for them. He chipped at the stone wings but the gemstone didn’t budge. He wedged his dagger into the edge of the carving and kicked the handle, causing the stone to fall loose.

In the distance, a raven crowed. He didn’t care for the foolish bird. If the rest of the gemstones were as easy to remove as this one had been, he would be a very rich man indeed. He looked around, trying to decide which stone to target next when he noticed a flower on top of the casket.

A single rose. It looked fresh. So someone had visited the grave recently, he thought taking the rose in his hands. He had been right all along. A grave like this with no attendants around. It seemed natural that the rumours had only been created to keep other people out while minimizing the need for guards.

He tossed the rose aside and decided to carve out the stone from the angel that rested at what looked like the head of the stone casket. He put one knee on top of the casket and pulled himself up so that he could sit on it while he carved the gem out. This was red in colour unlike the blue one he had just removed.

Funny, he thought since he could have sworn a minute ago that all of them had looked blue. Perhaps he had been mistaken in the darkness. This one was crimson. The colour of blood. The pawn shop would pay handsomely indeed. Nay, he would take it to the jewellers or bait some rich lord into paying him more. His sister would live a life of comfort once she recovered.

The earth below him rumbled. Caught unaware, he fell down, crashing into one of the cherub statues. His should cracked and he knew instantly that it had either been dislocated or broken. His dagger fell out of his hand as the earth shook again.

He clutched the gemstone close to the amulet and his chest and began to chant. The earth rumbled for a third time and there was a blinding light. The man yelled when he felt something solid and heavy hit him, crushing his lower body in an instant. He sobbed and wailed, trying to move but there was no use as the solid body crushed him and held him in place, slowly snuffing the life out of his legs.

When the light dimmed, he saw the black granite of the casket and cried. The top half had been upended and he feared the force that had done it. He chanted the verses the Temple had taught him as a child but he could tell it was of no use as a dark figure loomed, getting closer by the heartbeat.

The blood rushed to his head and he watched mutely as it took shape. A man. Large silver wings. They flapped as he bent down and picked something up. The rose. The figure turned and the man yelled again. Its eyes gleamed golden and his long silvered hair gave him the appearance of an angel, similar to the large columnar ones all around the casket.

All demons had been angels before they had been banished by the gods for their wrong doings.

The man cried, begging for mercy and salvation of his soul. It didn’t take a genius to put together what he had done. His greed had led him to his death. And his death stood over him, examining his face with his foot tilting his chin up.

He sent a prayer to the heavens for his sister. The demon smiled before putting his foot on his chest and crushing the gem, the amulet and his heart in one fell swoop.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to anyone who got the rose on casket reference.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/poojamk15?s=09) | [Tumblr](https://vixxscifiwritings.tumblr.com) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/poojamk15)


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